20050317

This is something I wrote as inspired by Ronald Reagan's funeral, which we watched in one of my classes today. It's probably what I'd want said on my behalf when I die, whenever God so deems. For the paranoid, I entertain no thoughts of suicide etc. save for jumping off various scenic vistas in games such as Halo 2, Zelda: Wind Waker and Super Smash Bros: Melee.

I write this to you from beyond the end, and the beginning.I am gone from you, and I am with you.I am dead, and I am alive.As my stilled face speaks, listen.Know that I was weary with energy,wise in my folly.Life is a paradox, a hypocrit,it defies definition, while defining us.Consistant in its inconsistancy,we are toyed with until broken.Shattered, we are made whole,in death we are made alive.Be joyful that as I am dust,blown in the wind,Heaven has picked up the fragments,one by one each flaw and fruit are named,piece by piece I am restored.I will wait tirelessly with impatience,standing as a statue in motion,at the gate of Glory,proclaiming aloud the quiet mercy of Father,thanks to the servant Lord Jesus,and the helpful helplessness the Spirit provides.

I guess I figure that there will be plenty of words of clarity spoken when I'm dead. I'm sure someone will exaggerate extoll my virtues in flowery and elegant speech. As such, I figured it would be nice to have a little bit of me provided by me, emphasizing an aspect of life I find most enjoyable, paradox. I'll probably look back on this epitaph when I'm seventy and think, "I knew diddly squat."

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What the...?

Within this link is retained all that is important, unimportant, and in limbo. At least as each pertains to the passages contained herein.

Who is this strange person?

You don't want to know. Trust me, you really don't. You may think you do, you may feel you do, you might even actually want to know. But really, you don't. There are a lot of reasons why you don't want to know. The first is I'm really quite boring. Trust me on that one, B-O-R-I-N-G. The second is I'm quite insane. Straight jacket insane. Not an interesting insane mind you, just that kind that makes you wake up in the middle of the night screaming something about how the Teletubbies invaded Cuba and set up a regime of Pants, Elephants and Used Cars. The last reason is that you don't want to know. I've probably already let on to too much. I might have to kill you. Speaking of which, where do you live?